Reprise
by scaryspaceman
Summary: The past always repeats itself in the scariest of ways, but no one sees it better than Luke Carver and the people surrounding him. But—12 years after a divorce that sent his entire world tumbling downhill—Luke finds himself presented with a second chance to learn from the past and stop it from ever repeating again. [modern au]
1. I: i'll drown when i see you

**A/N** : Hey, just wanna start this out by saying a big thank you to all of my wonderful friends in the Mutuals Discord for helping me get back into writing. This and the millions of other projects still left on the back burner wouldn't be possible without you guys kicking my ass back into high gear.

Now, with _Reprise_ , I need to give a fair warning that this story isn't exactly for everyone. Some of the topics it touches on (Divorce and Abandonment to name a few) are definitely heavy in nature, thus I do not recommend reading unless you're in the right state of mind to do so. TWs, whenever appropriate, will always be listed at the top of each chapter for you as the reader to take into consideration. That being said, read at your own risk.

I would also love to mention that the fanfic **Icicles** , by **roseabellaaa** , was a huge inspiration for this fic! I highly recommend taking a look at it if you haven't done so already!

For this chapter I recommend keeping the song **Sea of Love** by **Cat Power** handy!

* * *

 **tw: mentions of divorce, drowning, and abandonment**

* * *

I: i'll drown when i see you.

He has this dream every night. Of rough, ragged currents sweeping him off his feet, sending him back and into the black waters. It weighs him down, shoving him back and forth in between waves. This ocean, it is violent and unforgiving. Whatever he went running into the storm ravaged sea for—his body still screaming with the need to save it and not himself—is most likely gone. _Nothing can survive this_.

 _Not even himself._

But he fights, still furiously swimming and feeling. He knows he'll die, but whatever time he has left must be used to save whatever his heart is pulling him towards. He swims, he claws, he searches. Lightning flashes through the sky, illuminating the dark waters around him, and—for just the briefest moment—he sees it.

A silhouette. Something small, something fragile. Round and frilled out in the middle; like a jellyfish. Except, it isn't a jellyfish. Another brief burst of light illuminates her tiny twin tails writhing in the currents as if they were seaweed. His heart jolts.

Cutting through the water, quicker than the lightning up ahead, he wraps an arm around her and pulls her close. The warmth radiating from her tiny form reminds him to kick up towards the surface.

But the ocean is not one to give up easily. It's a cold, dark, and very lonely thing. And she, this little girl, may very well be the only warmth left in the whole world.

Reaching up and wrapping an icy hand around Luke's ankle, the ocean suddenly yanks him down. Luke struggles against it, but the ocean is a beast far stronger than he will ever be. His lungs ache, his mind grows weary, and his grip loosens for a split second.

A split second is all the ocean needs.

Without warning, the ocean rips away the only good thing Luke has ever known.

He screams, and carbon in his lung releases as a tidal wave of bubbles.

He reaches, he claws, he searches.

But she's gone.

* * *

"No!"

In a cold sweat, Luke shoots upright. His hands fly forward, groping to find something but only managing fistfuls of air. He looks around, eyes wide while he hungrily gasps for breath. Four blue walls, two blue curtains drawn in, one sleepy dog—it's his room.

 _Oh_. It was just another dream.

"Christ..." Luke falls back into his bed, fingers twitching with the energy left over from the imagined struggle. He's still stuck with the remnants of a fight or flight response, however it only takes the warm tongue of his bedmate to make the rest fade away. His attention turns to his furry companion of 6 years, dear sweet Bailey.

"Sorry, did I wake you up...?" He smiles as Bailey pushes her snout just underneath his hand. She whines, and he immediately moves to pet her soft head. Bailey's blue eyes glisten with an almost human look of concern. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Just another bad dream."

Bailey whines louder.

"Aww, I promise, girl, everythin's okay!" Luke throws the covers off and pushes himself upright again. He narrows his eyes down at her. "That, or maybe you're just whinin' because you're hungry. You want breakfast?"

He doesn't have to ask twice. Bailey perks up, tail wagging quick as she barks and bounds off of the bed. Before he knows it, she's skidding out of the bedroom and down the hallway.

"Alright then. Breakfast time it is." Luke chuckles and pushes himself out of bed. The wooden floor is cold underneath his feet and it squeaks as he trudges about the room. He subconsciously gravitates to the dresser out of sheer habit. "Shirt, pants, socks—"

Wait.

Narrowing his eyes, he looks over his shoulder at the analogue clock. In bold red, the clock screams Tuesday, June 7th, 7:14 AM. His hands slowly drift away from the dresser handles. His Tuesday shift isn't until noon.

Pulling himself away, he takes his route out of the room and down the hall Bailey skidded down. His fingers skim the walls as he goes, feeling the familiar cracks in the ugly beige paint that lines the old walls; always telling himself that he'll repaint them a kinder yellow. Yellow was a good color, right? Calming, or something like that? He figures any color would be better than the one covering the walls now.

He turns the corner and—

"Gah!"

Sunlight fills the living room in a near excessive manner and blinds him instantly when he enters the living room. His room, compared to this, is a pitch black cave.

"Bailey, remind me to close the blinds before bed!" He calls and Bailey responds with an excited bark. Cringing away from the light, he cuts the corner quick and enters the kitchen.

Here it's a little better. His house—and every house in the neighborhood—faces towards the rising sun. So, the living room becomes a bath of light in the morning, the kitchen in the evening. In theory it's a good deal, but it's a shame that he isn't exactly a morning person.

He heads towards the pantry and pulls out the bag of dog food he's fed her for the longest while. Pouring out the usual into the Aussie's bowl, he can't help but catch her eager pacing just by his leg. That always tugs a grin from his lips. He moves across the room and sets the food down by her water bowl. Bailey doesn't waste any time with wolfing it down.

Now that he's a little more awake, he spares the kitchen clock a better glance.

7:25 AM.

Damn, he really is up early. He normally doesn't have this much time to spare before work, though Bailey always wakes him up around 9. Still, even then he was pushing it to make sure she was well taken care of before he had to head out. Today, he's sitting pretty with at least three hours to spare.

Luke's eyes dart back towards the living room. He isn't hungry, at least not at the moment. Something else is crying for his attention—he can feel it in his fingertips.Moving past Bailey, Luke moves back into the living room. He squints for a few seconds, feeling his way around the nearest couch until his eyes adjust. He feels the smooth mahogany of his acoustic brush against his hands before they fully do.

With a grin, Luke carefully takes it up from it's stand, seating himself on the nearest couch. This one is new. Well, new-er. He has an older one on a stand in his bedroom and an even older one in the guest room. That one—gathering dust in a room he never visits—is pushing 16 years since he first got it. It wasn't his first, but it was a gift from his mother.

He flinches and quickly pulls his mind out of the guest room, locking that part off with a mental key. Don't go in there. Don't look think about the guitar. Don't think about before.

Instead of focusing on the past, Luke pushes himself to focus on the 'now'. He brushes his finger pads against the steel strings, listening to them shiver underneath his touch. His thumb snags on the fattest string and plucks a warm, resonating note out of it. Doing the same for the rest, he makes sure they're all in tune. It's a skill he's acquired over the last 25 years of playing, a perk of sticking to this hobby for so long.

He's been told by close friends—AKA Nick—to make a career out of it, but the humble side of him always says that he isn't that good. And, quite frankly, it isn't just the humble part of him that's talking. It's all of him.

He plucks the thinnest string and cringes when the note shrills off tune. Too loose. Nimble fingers reach upwards to adjust it.

He has a nice voice, sure, but he knows he sounds exactly like every other Nashville born Bill lingering for too long on the local Country radio station. Besides, he's getting old. Nick argues that 36 isn't old, but Luke feels like he's well past his prime. The world wants young and new. Not... middle aged and redundant.

Once the string hums a bright, clear tune, he moves his hand down the neck towards their default positions. His thumb strums downwards.

He knows which song he wants to play first, it's the same one he plays right after he has those dream; every single time.

First he hums.

Then he sings.

" _Come with me... My love. To the sea, the sea of love..._ "

The chords play him just as much as he plays them. They tug at his heart strings and calm the cold, lonely ocean inside of his head. In his arms is an old, warm weight. He remembers singing this to soothe someone else, but now he sings it to comfort himself.

" _I wanna tell you... How much I love you._ "

He's loved so many, he's lost so many. The thing with love is that it never truly has an end. For him, at least, it never does. He's always left loving people who leave too soon, spending his days wishing he could tell them just how much they were loved. He wishes he had more time with so many people. He wishes he had more time with her—

He plucks the wrong note, the sound souring the atmosphere. Stumbling on the words, it's not long before the whole song falls apart mid sentence. The music fades, the comfort fades, and suddenly it's quiet. Luke rests his head back against the couch, sighing deeply. Maybe today just isn't his day.Before he can sink further in his sulk, he hears his phone ring loudly from the kitchen counter. God _, who's calling him this early_? Placing the guitar back on the stand, Luke makes a sprint into the kitchen to answer it.

"Hello?"

No one answers.

Luke makes a face and looks down towards the tiling.

"Who is this?"

Still, no one answers.

Luke contemplates hanging up, but—just when he moves to take the phone from his ear—someone speaks.

"H-Hey, uh..."

Her voice, though soft, is like an iron fist; balled up tight, swinging deep into his gut. His breath hitches in his throat with shock. With the wind knocked out of him, Luke finds himself gripping onto the counter for dear life.

"Thought you'd never hear from me again, huh?" A chuckle escapes her, though it sounds more sad than amused. "Hah, That's okay. I thought the same thing about you, I guess?"

She's right. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever consider that he'd hear from her again. The last time they spoke, Luke dismally thought it was final. Granted, he was never sad for her absence, but something else instead. All those years ago, she stole something precious from him.

His jaw tightens and he closes his eyes.

"What do you want?" It comes out harsher than he intends, gruff and curt.

He can tell he's taken her back with his response, because she nervously laughs again to defuse the tension. That was always her first go to. "God, come on Luke, don't be like that—"

" _Jane_."

She falls quiet.

"Y'know, you got a lot of nerve callin' me." He grips the counter a little harder.

"I know," Jane admits flatly. "I know that I've done... a _lot_ of shitty stuff in the past. But I need... I _need_ you to listen to me."

Eyes wide, Luke let's out an incredulous laugh.

"Listen to you?!" He exclaims. "Listen. To. _You_? Of all fuckin' people—the one person who single handedly fucked over my life?"

"I didn't—"

"No! Just—Stop!"

Falling silent, Luke feels the ocean's icy grip begin to ghost around his ankle—maybe even his heart. He feels cold.

"You took _everythin'_ from me, Jane," he grits out. "I don't want to hear whatever it is you have to say. _Fuck_ you and go _fuck_ yourself."

"I get it!" She explodes. "I get it, alright, you're still mad, and you have every right to be! I'm _sorry_!" Frustration creeps it's way into every word she spits out. "You don't want my excuses, so I won't bother giving it to you." On the other end of the call, papers crinkle. "But I _need_ you to swallow your anger with me down for just... three fucking minutes!"

" _Why_?!"

"Two words," She breathes as though she's cocking a pistol and aiming right for his heart. " _The kids_."

She's fired the shot.

Time stops. Everything in the world stops, and all Luke can hear is the sound of his heartbeat. Jane's known for casting lines filled with only the best bait. When they were together, that's all their conversations were. Sharp words softened by promises that seemed to good to be true (and they were always too good to be true).

Luke _should_ be smart enough to know this is just another bait reeling him in to get hurt—but he isn't. Despite his best interest, Luke finds himself hooked on like a hungry fish.

"Fine," he mutters bitterly, the back of his head beginning to buzz like a nest of wasps. "Three minutes, that's all I'm givin' you."

"Good, first off—"

Something loud sounds over the call, cutting her off before she can continue. Jane yelps and suddenly—for the briefest moment—Luke hears another voice.

" _Mom, you okay_?"

Suddenly, his arms are heavy again with the warm weight of the world. He closes his eyes so tightly, trying to erase the sound from his head. It's not _her_ , it probably isn't—but who else would call Jane ' _mom'_?

" _I'm fine! I'm fucking fine!_ " Jane yells away from the phone. " _Go back to your room!_ "

He hears the door shut and Jane releases a shaky sigh.

"What just happened?" He asks cautiously.

"Something… fell." She says, suddenly sounding decades older. Worn and exhausted. "I'm pulling out documents right now, and…" Her voice trails off. "Fuck it. Look, I know you hate me, but I _know_ you don't hate _them_. I mean… You'd still want them, right?"

"What kind of question is that?!"

"I'm just making sure!" She snaps. "Okay, I need you to promise me something. I know you haven't seen them in God knows how long—"

 _12 years_ , he painfully reminds himself.

"But… You're my _last_ resort, Luke. If anything happens—and I know it will—I _need_ you to promise me that you'll take them in."

"What're you talkin' about? Jane what's—"

"Luke, just fucking promise!"

He swallows hard and looks down.

"Okay," he promises. "I'll take them, whenever. But… Jane, what is goin' on?"

"Jane?"

Another loud noise clamours somewhere outside of the room and the voice from before calls for Jane again.

" _Shit_ ," she hisses out. "I have to go. I know it's not making sense now, but you have to trust me when I say everything is already taken care of. I'll send you more details later, just know that Beverly will—"

" _Mom_!"

Before she can continue—before Luke can question her further—the call drops. He sets his phone down and feels his legs go weak. Leaning his weight against the counter, Luke slowly slides down to the floor. Sitting there, his hands find their way to his face, leg sprawling out along the tiling.

Somewhere, far off and distant, thunder echoes. A storm is brewing, but it's not just the one in his head.

* * *

Despite all efforts not to do so, Luke thinks about Jane's call the rest of the day and nothing else. He thinks about how sudden it was, coming out of the blue 12 years after the divorce, with no apparent reason reason as to why Jane's just now offering up _custody_ for their kids. Every now and then, his eyes dart back to his phone, waiting for something—anything to clear things up for him. He wants answers—no— _needs_ answers.

Because, this? None of this was adding up. The last they spoke, on that fateful day in court, Jane had made her stance clear; she wanted nothing of him and he would have nothing to do with the kids. Maybe people change, but Jane isn't the most malleable person.

His mind soon wonders to his kids. If this arrangement ever comes to fruition, that means he really would be seeing them again someday. God, what must they think of him now? Do they know that he never wanted to leave them? Do they know that he still loves them—still thinks about them every moment of the day? Do they know he even exists?

Luke fidgets restlessly in his corner office space. Every now and then, he fumbles with his phone. No new messages, no new calls. Every vibration is a false alarm that only makes the tension in his head even more worse. Wound up like a twisted rubber band, bursting with nervous energy.

An eternity passes, and the clock strikes 8 PM. Without wasting any time, Luke cleans his desk space, clocks out, and makes his way out in a hurry. Just as he leaves the building, dashes across the stormy parking lot, and enters his car—he gets the message that he's been waiting for.

Unknown Sender: " _Sorry, something came up earlier and I had to hang up. The legal issues have all been cleaned up. Perks of having a Yale graduate lawyer for a Mom, huh?"_

He grimaces as the mention of Jane's mother. A lot of people talk big about monster in-laws. He thinks slyly that she's the mother of them all.

"So I have partial custody of Beverly and Riley now?"

Unknown Sender: " _Well, yes and no."_

Luke swallows the lump building in his throat. "Elaborate?"

Unknown Sender: " _I could only grant custody of Riley over to you_."

Unknown Sender: " _I don't have any control over Beverly._ "

Unknown Sender: " _She's, well, emancipated._ "

 _Emancipated_. The car starts—lights flickering a bit before the engine stutters to life. Luke can only stare forward. Palms sweaty, he pulses his grip around the steering wheel. Does this mean that he'll only see Riley? If so, why had Jane mentioned Beverly earlier? His stomach clenches with unease as the phone goes off again.

Unknown Sender: " _The bright side of this; you can't separate Bev and Riley. If worse comes to worse, she'll be coming down with him anyways."_

Unknown Sender: " _I doubt she'd be excited to live with you, but you can handle that when it happens._ "

 _Ouch_. Acting almost on a split second decision, Luke shoots her the big question that's been biting at him all day.

"After all of this time, why are you doing this now?"

Before Jane can write back, Luke turns his phone on silent and sets it face down in the passenger's seat. He'll never get home to Bailey if he sits here all night asking questions. Pulling out and making his way down the road, Luke remains unbearably tense.

 _I doubt she'd be excited to live with you._

Just like the song, Luke feels Jane's words working their way into his heart. They play him just like the chords did, and they do even more than that. Jane's sly comment picks his spirits up and slams his very being right into the floor. He shatters as if he's glass and the tendons of his heart yelp like snapping guitar strings. Part of him wonders if Jane always intends to be as cruel as she is. As insensitive and uncaring of how others feel. Then again, she's most likely right. Beverly probably thinks the worst of him, and that perception was entirely out of his control. Knowing that kills him.

Gripping his steering wheel a little tighter, Luke diverts his focus back onto the road.

He's driving down a less than busy street, listening through the noise of the radio as heavy rain bears down on his windshield. But, that's not all he's listening to. Eyebrows furrowed, he turns down the music and listens intently.

What the fuck?

A subtle whine ebbs in through the front of the cars. Lights inside of his car flicker again and dim.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

 _It's probably nothin'_ , he tells himself, _but_ — _if it is somethin'—God, please—just let me get home, to my dog, in one piece_ —

As though out of spite, his car slows to a dying chug. With what little control he has left, he pulls the car onto the side of the road, into a ditch filled with gravel and grass.

"Fuckin'— _Fuck_!" Luke slams his face into the wheel, the car horn blaring briefly as he yells in frustration. Pulling his head away, he glances at his phone out of the corner of his eye. _Nick_. He has to call Nick.

When he picks his phone up, the first thing he notices is the long ended list of messages he's received from Jane in the span of a few minutes. _Woah_. Luke sucks in a breath, and swipes out of it to find Nick's contact. Right now, he needs to focus on getting help. He can read it over in depth later.

Once he finds Nick's number, Luke calls him.

The phone rings and it doesn't take long for him to get an answer.

"What's up, man?" Before Luke can talk, Nick adds, " _Please_ tell me your car isn't actin' up again."

Luke bites his lip guiltily. "Hah… uh…" He looks at the dimming lights on his dashboard. "I swear, it wasn't my fault this time, Nick—"

"Jesus, _Fuck_ ," Nick groans over the phone. "Man, it's _late._ Why do you always break your car when I'm tryna sleep?"

" _Late_?" Luke echoes in disbelief. "Since when is 8 PM _late_ for you?"

"Ever since I've been pullin' extra shifts at the shop to get an actual Paternity Leave," Nick replies.

Luke mentally slaps himself upside the head. _Duh_ , _how could he forget that_?

"Shit, that's right. I'm sorry, man," Luke rubs his neck guiltily.

" _Sure_ you are." Nick sighs—not sounding the least bit mad—and Luke hears the brief sound of keys jingling. "Tell me where you are, I'll come by and grab you with the tow truck."

Luke grins and gives him as many details as he can make out from the dark, rain warped view. "God, you're a lifesaver, Nick."

"You're damn right I am!" Nick manages a chuckle. "Honestly, Luke, you should've majored in mechanics and not Art _whatever_. Maybe then you wouldn't be constantly dependin' on me to save you from your god awful car."

"At least I actually _went_ to college, asshole." Luke snorts and looks down. His smile fades and he fiddled with his seatbelt. "Actually… Nick, when you get here, I need to talk with you."

"About?"

Luke bites his lip. "Nothin' too bad. Just… focus on the road for now. It's rainin' cats and dogs out there, just be safe."

"Alright, I will," Nick replies. "But… You okay, man?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just… I need to sort some things out."

* * *

 _Scrit, scrit, click._

Another X is written on the calendar. The red pen clicks closed and gets shoved into her back pocket. She eyes the calendar nervously. Friday, June 10th. Day three of Mom going AWOL. She always keeps count of how long her mother stays out. You never know when you'll have to file a missing person's report. Though—to her mother's credit—she's never been gone long enough for it to happen.

Beverly shouldn't be worrying about this. Sometimes, her mother leaves for weeks at a time. She did it once, on a summer vacation a few years back. Three days isn't enough to worry. But she does; because this time is different.

She slowly turns and looks around her mother's room. It's barren of any clothes, any jewelry, any make up—even her prized leather jacket is gone. Anything that belonged to her is _gone_. The bed is still there, but the blankets are all missing. If her mom left and meant to come back, she would've left everything where it was. Maybe wrecked the room, taken _some_ clothes. But not everything.

This time is real. This time she isn't coming back home.

" _Beverlyyyyyyy_!"

She snaps her attention over to the doorway, hurrying out of the room and making her way towards the staircase. "What, Riley?"

The 12 year old pokes his head over the banister to look up at her, dirty blond curls spill over his forehead while his eyes wrinkle with a devilishly grin. "I hear you ghostin' around Mom's r-room!" He calls. "Mom's gonna _kill_ you when she gets back! No k-kids allowed in there!"

"I know the rules, Riley." Beverly starts down the stairs and shoos him back towards the living room. "And I'm not a _kid_. Besides, I'm just looking for… _Clues_."

That always sparks a light in his eyes.

"Clues?" Riley obediently hops back onto the couch, grinning wide. "C-Can I help, then? You know, I am the best detective in Lexington!"

"No, dude," Beverly sighs. "I know you're a _great detective_ , but I _need_ you to stay put for now."

From the corner of her eye, Beverly can see him throwing his head back and whining high. "Awww, b-but _Beverly_!"

"No buts!" Beverly snaps, silencing her younger brother. Riley throws her a pout. "And—for _Cripes_ sake—don't throw your head around like that, alright? The last thing we need right now is for you to shake your brain and have another seizure."

"I wasn't even throwing m-my head around!" Riley groans. "If I can't help you, c-can I go outside?"

"You asked earlier, and what did I tell you?"

" _Gawd_ , you never let me do anything!" He groans even louder than before and Beverly can't help but roll her eyes.

 _He can whine all he wants_ , she thinks to herself, _this is for his own good_.

Walking into the kitchen, Beverly looks towards the countertop. She left something important there, something that she's been holding off for the last 48 hours; too busy to consider it while she searched every inch of the house for _clues_. Now that it's apparent that her mother isn't coming back, she needs to start making calls. The night before she left—somewhere around there—her mother left a note on the fridge. Well, _two_ notes.

Beverly thinks she knows where they are, but—now that she's by the countertop—she realizes quick that something is wrong. Confused, she sifts around the area, but nothing comes up. It's _gone_. Oh no.

"Riley?" She calls, panic etching her voice as she starts moving things around. "Where's the note?"

"Wh-What note?"

"The note!" Her searching suddenly becomes frantic. "The one Mom left! Where is it?"

"I d-don't know!" He yells back. "Didn't you have it last?"

Oh no, no, _no_. Cripes, he's right; she was the last one who had it. But, where is it now? She looks around in a frenzy, nearly tearing up half of the kitchen in the process.

Beverly found it—no— _them_ the morning their mom went missing. When she woke up, the family car was gone and the living room was a nightmare. Riley's birth certificate, official documents, and even the hospital discharge papers from the night before—all scattered along the floor like the wind had blown them in. She made sure to clean up and hide all the documents before Riley had woken up, but where was her mom? Why were the papers everywhere to begin with? Nothing made sense, not until she saw the notes.

One had someone's contact information on it, written clearly in permanent marker, and the other was littered with frantic writing starting with an " _I'm sorry_ ". Beverly balled that one up before reading any further; before she realized just how dire the situation was. When she first saw them, she hadn't yet seen the empty room. She thought that this time was just like the last. A brief vacation from her kids. Part of her wishes she would've read further, but maybe it's for the best that she didn't. She doesn't know where that one is now, but that isn't what she's looking for.

She needs the note with the contact information on it.

"Beverly!"

Instinctually, she perks up from her rummaging. Riley runs into the kitchen, sliding across the hardwood due to the socks he's wearing. His hand catches along the corner of the counter and stops him from going further. He slams a paper down on the table.

"Is th-this it?" He asks, and Beverly quickly examines it. She sees the number, the name, the address—Cripes almighty, he found it!

"Yes!" She grins at her younger brother, taking the note up with an overjoyed look. "Oh man, you're a real lifesaver. For a second there I thought I was going to have to call Aunt Jaime or _Nana_."

Both of them shudder. Beverly can barely stomach the idea of Riley living with their Aunt—though she isn't _that_ bad—but sending him to be with their grandmother is absolutely out of the question. Years back she informally declared that anyone from her mom's side was—and still is—strictly forbidden from ever taking grabs at Riley. It's hard for her to label a singular collection of people entirely bad, but her mother's family is all _but_ good. They're just plain evil.

"Sooo," Riley muses. "Who's this Luke guy? Why's Mom telling you to call him?"

Beverly opens her mouth, but closes it back quick. _That's right_ , she thinks sadly, _he doesn't know_. It's amazing how many things her mother could fail to explain to him. "He's… somebody."

Before Riley starts asking the big questions, she takes the note and quickly makes her way out of the kitchen.

" _Somebody_?" Riley trails behind her, frustration suddenly ebbing in his voice. "Wh-what do you mean ' _somebody_ '? Beverly, who—"

"He's just a family friend!" Beverly snaps, eyes going wide when she realizes that she's lied to him. The heat of the moment got her, and it got her _good_. Suddenly, she's glad her back is to him. At least he can't see the shame burning into her expression as she nervously slips on her sandal.

"A family friend?" Riley echoes, disbelief in his voice.

"Yes." _Oh, whoever is out there, please forgive her for lying_. "He's an old family friend. He might help us, he might not. But… Just stay put for 5 minutes while I make this call, okay?"

She can feel the skepticism in Riley's eyes burning holes into her back. He knows something, Beverly realizes. Does he have an inkling as to who Luke is? Does he _know_?

But the subject drops after heartbeat passes. "F- _Fine_." He ends the conversation entirely with a dejected sigh, throwing himself back onto the couch. Guilt festers inside of her like an internal wound. Quick to run from it, Beverly takes herself outside.

Escaping the smothering atmosphere of the house, the late afternoon heat and humidity comes quick to replace it. She steps outside and closes the door behind her, gritting out a noise of discomfort. The heat wave hitting Lexington pushes the highs toward the mid-90s, though she swears it's peaking triple digits. This is why she's refusing to let Riley outside. Riley outdoor rough housing killer heat? It's an equation for disaster.

Pulling her focus from the neausating heat, she turns her attention to the contact information on the note. She hasn't seen his name before on anything besides their birth certificates. Lukas Carver. Beverly touches the surname with a bit of lonesome nostalgia.

Carver was always looked at as a bold name, too bold for her. _But it's still a part of me_ , she'd always say with pride, _I'm still_ _Beverly Carver_.

She feels the loneliness in her chest bloom into something even more gnarly and painful. That was before her name turned into a military grade bomb; one her mother loved to drop more frequently than the F-Bomb. That was also before her father's name became a weapon of mass desertion far worse than all the nuclear warheads in the world combined. If you set them both off at once, there's no guarantee the world will make it out in one piece. She's not sure she can make it out of this in one piece.

"No," she tells herself. "You have to make it through this. You have to get this call out in one piece."

Her hands shake.

"If you don't call him, Jaime and Nana will take Riley. You'll ever see him again if they do that."

Beverly feels a tear roll down her cheek. Then another. And another. She can't live without Riley, he's all she has left.

It's then she realizes that the fate of this situation lies entirely in her father's hands. Fearfully, she also realizes, that there's a 50% chance that he'll say _No_. She hasn't considered the likelihood that Luke has already moved on with his life, just like she's tried to. Maybe he has a new wife, or even new kids! Two new, better, cooler, less messed up kids. At this point, he doesn't need them now; maybe he never did.

Her shoulders shake and her lips curl into the ugliest shape. She closes her eyes shut tight and lets out the ugliest, most gut wrenching cry.

Beverly misses him. She misses him so much. He never even said goodbye. She should be angry, she should be _furious_. But she isn't. She's still hollow with the empty space he left in her life when he walked out the door that afternoon and never came back home.

Through the blur of her tears, she looks down at his number. _Call him_ , the world screams into her ear, _what's the harm in hearing what you've always known_?

Beverly wants to run into the house, shut all the windows, and crawl onto the coverless mattress in her mother's room. There was so much harm in hearing that smoke and honey drenched voice tell her that he wants nothing to do with her. She _can't_ call him.

But she _has_ to. Because this isn't about her or about Luke. This isn't about the past; this is about the present.

This is about Riley.

Beverly steals a shaky breath and stills her chattering teeth. Every emotion lingering in her chest gets shoved into a closet, and the door slams shut behind them. She locks it all in with a mental key and slingshots the key towards the heavens.

Wiping away her tears, Beverly takes her phone out and dials his number. She has to call Luke.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she puts the phone up to her ear. It rings.

 _And it rings._

 _And it rings._

Beverly wants to puke.

 _And—_

" _Hello?_ "

* * *

 **A/N** : Thank you so much for reading! Make sure to keep tuned in for the next chapter!


	2. II: some things stay the same

**A/N:** Hey guys! I don't have much to say for this chapter asides from a quick thank you to those who read the first chapter and sent feedback on it! You guys are the light of my life! ;_;

Without further ado, here's the next chapter!

* * *

 **II: some things stay the same**

* * *

 _Jane: "'Why am I doing this?'"_

 _Jane: "Wow, that's…"_

 _Jane: "That's the million dollar question, huh?"_

 _Jane: "If I gave you the answer, the full answer,"_

 _Jane: "I know what you'd say."_

 _Jane: "So I won't give you the full answer."_

 _Jane: "What I can say is that I had an epiphany, or whatever you want to call."_

 _Jane: "And I realized something."_

 _Jane: "What happened 12 years ago left both of us unhappy for two polar opposite reasons."_

 _Jane: "And I soon realized what would fix that."_

 _Jane: "Us getting what we've always fucking wanted."_

* * *

 **{II}**

* * *

Luke doesn't expect it, and it hits him like a train. Well, not all that literally. Nick's shirt flies towards him right as he turns on his heel, hitting him square in the face. It catches him mid breath, and all he can smell is sweat, musk, and _Nick_. Now, that? That almost _kills_ him.

"What the _fuck_?!" Luke cries as he tears it off his face, just in time to watch Nick burst out into a fit of laughter.

" _Jesus_ , man, I even yelled 'duck'!" Nick's laughing so hard that he _wheezes_ , and Luke throws him an unamused look. "You should… You should've seen your face, Luke… Oh _man…_ "

"Yeah, laugh all you want," Luke grumbles, balling the shirt up and throwing it back at Nick. "Just remember, I know where you live man."

Catching it just before it hits his face, Nick redirects it to the chair beside the car. "Oh, I'm _so_ scared. The fuck are you gonna do? Have Bailey shit on my lawn?"

Across the repair garage, the dog in question rests lazily by her water bowl, tuckered out by the summer heat. She perks up at her name, waves her tail a few times, but does nothing more than that. Eyeing her from where he is besides the propped open hood, Luke chuckles.

"Bailey's too good of a dog to maliciously bomb someone's lawn with shit," Luke replies. " _But_ , I am tempted to throw a pack of deodorant through your bedroom window because— _Fuck_ —you smell like a high school gym locker room, Nick."

"What?! Like hell I do!" Nick pauses, then turns to sniff his underarm. His nose scrunches up and he quickly turns his attention back under the hood of the car. "Okay, whatever, but who's been workin' on your car for the last three hours in this god awful heat?"

Correction: drinking beer, goofing off, shit talking with Luke, _and_ working on the car for the last three hours.

" _You_ ," Luke sighs.

"Damn right," Nick turns to look for something on his workbench.

That's when he sees a window of opportunity. Stripping his shirt off quick, Luke balls it up and winds his arm back.

"Duck!"

Nick doesn't duck. He does the same exact thing Luke did; turn back with confusion in his eyes. He doesn't expect the mouthful of shirt Luke delivers as it hurdles right into his face.

"Gah! Fuck— _Luke_!"

This time, Luke laughs. Hell, both of them are laughing now. The white shirt gets tossed into the same chair Nick's shirt's in.

"God, you _really_ don't want me to fix your car, do you?" Nick smirks as he reaches back to grab what looks like a wrench. "Keepin' me distracted."

" _Hey_ , you started it!" Luke counters as Nick bends down to work. "And, look, I really do need her fixed. I mean, you can't keep drivin' me back and forth from work," he leans himself back against the driver's door. "Especially not with the whole… baby thing."

Nick grunts with force as he seemingly tightens something.

"Speakin' of the uh… baby…" Luke looks away. "How's Shel doin'? I know you mentioned you both were in the hospital last night. What was that all about?"

Nick sets the wrench back down on the workbench, a warm smile stretching from ear to ear. It isn't the response Luke was initially expecting for the mention of a hospital visit, but his heart leaps happily nontheless.

"Oh shit," Luke stands back straight. "Oh, man, did she have the baby already?!"

"Nah, not yet," Nick laughs, still smiling giddily. "We thought she was. Man, you should've seen me." His expression turns wistful. "Trippin' over my own two feet, strugglin' to get all of the right stuff all loaded in. Becca and Shel were lookin' at me like I had two heads!" He reaches back to grab the rag from his back pocket, chuckling as he pulls it out and wipes his hands clean. "I was everywhere, man. When we got to the hospital the doctors told us that it was just Brax… uh… somethin'. False labor."

" _Ouch_ …"

"Yeah…" Nick's laugh settles into a warm sigh. "Luke, I was scared out of my mind last night. I mean, Jesus, I can't even begin to imagine how Shel must've felt. But… I was also _excited_." He places the rag down onto the workbench and shifts around the contents on there. "We thought we were going to finally meet _her_. I was so ready, but also I wasn't?"

A warmth settles into Luke's chest. "I can't believe this is all comin' from you."

"Never saw me as the fatherly type?" Nick asks. "That's alright. I don't think anyone did. Hell, I sure never saw myself with kids until I met Shel. She brought somethin' out in me. Somethin' _good_." Taking a step back, he tosses the keys over and Luke catches them. "Try startin' the engine real fast."

Quickly, Luke opens the door. He leans in to insert the key, then turn it; listening as he does. The car clicks momentarily in response but stops afterward. He feels the once inviting atmosphere sour over quick with anxiety.

"Try it again!"

He does, and they get the same outcome.

A few clicks, then silence.

Nick curses up front and Luke feels as if he's been punched in the gut.

"What's wrong?" Luke calls from the driver's seat.

"I…" Nick groans. "I don't know, man. Take the key out and come over here. We need to uh… talk."

 _Great._ Luke thinks as his mind begins to buzz. _Just fuckin' great._

He takes the key out of the ignition and gets out of the car entirely. Shutting the door behind him, Luke nervously goes over to where the other's standing. He looks into the jumbled, mechanical mess that seems to only make sense to Nick.

"Okay," Nick starts. "Bad news first."

" _God_ ," Luke groans. "Do I have to get a new car?"

"What? No!" Nick shakes his head. "Jesus, no, man. She's fucked, but not _that_ fucked."

That's not as reassuring as it should be.

"The bad news is that I have no fuckin' clue what's goin' on in here." He looks back into the car. "I replaced both the alternator and the battery. You know what those are right?"

"Christ, I'm not _stupid_ , Nick." Luke frowns, and Nick contains a snort.

" _Okay_." Nick muses, seeming unconvinced. "Anyways, good news is that Pete can probably fix whatever I'm missin' here. Your car's an older model, so some of this stuff is just… beyond me. Pete's used to working on older models, so he'll probably be able to get her up and workin' in no time."

Luke perks up, joy glinting in his eyes.

"Really?!"

"Yeah! Well, here's the catch… Pete lives some ways out. Three hours—double that if traffic gets as bad as it does around this time of year," He closes the hood and offers Luke a less than excited look. "It'll probably be easier on Pete if I tow her over to his ranch since he's not too good with long drives much anymore, especially on such short notice. Dependin' on when I can catch him, it might be a week or even longer until we can get your car up and goin'."

Luke sucks in a sharp breath and holds it. He then releases it out his nose.

"As long as it's fixed, I don't care."

Nick chuckles and teasingly punches his arm. "That's the spirit, man!" He turns on his heel and starts across the room towards the mini fridge. "For now, you can borrow my car. I have the tow truck and Shel's got her van, so it's not much trouble to lend you mine. Just, _please_ —" He turns back and looks him dead in the eyes. " _Do. Not. Break. Her_."

Luke holds his hands up and crosses his heart.

"Good," Nick grumbles slightly and pulls out two cold beers. "Anyways, wanna drive back and hang at your house? Shel's still havin' girl time with Steph, and Becca's stayin' with a friend tonight."

"Sounds perfect," Luke smiles as the other returns with their drinks in hand. "Let's—"

His phone buzzes in his back pocket, sending a jolt through him. Pulling it out, Luke's quick to check over the number. He's half expecting the familiar number of a local telemarketer that's been on his case for the last few weeks, but—to his surprise—it's something far from it. Recognition lights in his eyes when he sees the area code. _Lexington, Virginia._

 _Wait,_ he thinks, _is this Jane?_ If so, he should already have her number saved as a contact, why—

Then it hits him.

He briefly holds a finger up to Nick and answers the phone, holding it up to his ear with his heart pounding in his chest.

"Hello?"

He holds his breath to try to settle his heartbeat, hoping for someone— _anyone_ —to answer back. He waits.

And waits.

And waits.

But no one answers. So, he tries again, wondering if maybe they hadn't heard him the first time.

"Hello?"

He waits again for a response, but all he's met with is cicadas chirping loudly on both ends. He gnaws on his cheek, anxiety building in his chest.

"Beverly?"

As if on cue, the call drops. He pulls the phone away in shock and stares down at it sadly. A muckiness forms in his chest and spreads as he turns his phone off.

"Hey, Luke, you okay?" Nick sets the beers down by the workbench and sets a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm…" Luke sucks in another breath to calm himself, holding it for a moment before releasing it. "I'm fine."

Nick nods, looking away. "Was that…?"

"I don't know." _That must've been her, it had to have been her._ "If it was, I think she's… angry with me. And I don't blame her. I can't… I…"

Nick doesn't ask why, and Luke's grateful for it. Granted, Nick probably knows that story by heart because he was there when it all happened. Even without having to explain it, though, the amount of guilt that resurfaces just from thinking about it is immense.

He almost pockets his phone, but it vibrates and lights up just as he moves to do so. Looking down at it, he sees the messages lighting the screen.

Unknown Sender: " _i'm sorry, i kind of chickened out of the call."_

Unknown Sender: " _i'm bad with phone calls in general but… um…_ "

Unknown Sender: " _can we meet somewhere tomorrow?_ "

Woah. Luke replies as quick as he can.

"Sure? But, who is this?"

Unknown Sender: " _oh! oh, sorry._ "

Unknown Sender: " _you uh… you were right._ "

Unknown Sender: " _in the call, i mean._ "

Luke feels the world shift, everything tilting off balance. He teeters between stability and crashing down all at once. Still, the messages continue.

Unknown Sender: " _that's why i hung up, i was so shocked, haha…_ "

Unknown Sender: " _i couldn't believe you remembered my name._ "

Luke stares down at the messages, frozen while his heart tilts off its axis. He doesn't know what to say, how to feel. _Did she really think…?_

Unknown Sender: " _look, i need to talk with you. i know it's sudden, and you're probably really busy_."

Unknown Sender: " _and if you don't want to meet, that's fine, i respect that._ "

Luke interjects as quick as he can.

"Beverly, of course I want to meet! I'm free all day tomorrow, does noon at the Al Coda diner work?"

A moment that stretches out too long passes. Luke worries that he's scared her off, but that vanishes the moment he gets a reply from her.

Unknown Sender: "perfect! i'll see you there! :D"

He types out a last response and almost sends it. But, something stops him. He stares down at it nervously.

"Alright! See you there! Love you!"

 _Love you_.

Would that be appropriate? After all this time? Deciding against it, Luke erases that portion and sends the rest of the message without it. After, he stuffs his phone back into his pocket and looks back up at Nick with glossy eyes.

"So, uh…" Luke clasps his hands together. "Good news and bad news."

"Oh god, Luke…" Nick looks like he's about to offer him some sort of pity, but Luke waves it away.

"Good news, I'm… gonna meet with her tomorrow at noon. At the diner."

Nick's eyes grow wide with excitement, but the look quickly falters.

"Wait," Nick breaths. "Shit, man, what's the bad news?"

"Bad news is that… uh… She wants to talk. I don't about what, but," He looks away. "I have a bad feelin' about this. Not about her, but about the talk. I'm scared she's gonna… I don't know."

"Well," Nick pops open a beer and hands it to Luke. "If she wants to talk face to face, it probably isn't as bad as you think it'll be."

"But, what if it is?" Luke frets. "What if she's comin' down here just to tell me off? And say that she never wants to see me again?" He runs a hand through his hair. "Jane would do that, you know, I…" His voice grows quiet and he looks to his feet. "What if she's just like her mom, man?"

"Hey, c'mon, Luke, quit that." Nick pops open a bottle and takes a quick swig from it. " _Assumptions make an ass out of you and me_. So, let's not go doin' that." Nick stares at the car for a quiet moment, seeming stuck in his own thoughts. "What you need to do is stop thinkin' so hard about this. I know this is like… shit your pants level scary, but the worst thing you can do right now is over analyze everythin'."

"Alright," Luke breathes, fiddling with the wet beer bottle before taking a swig from it. "Don't think hard on it. Gotcha."

Nick chuckles and shakes his head, grabbing their shirts up in his free hand. "C'mon, let's get out of here. Maybe we can catch some college baseball at your house."

Luke gives him an incredulous look. "What? No! Fuck that, Nick, you _know_ I hate baseball."

"That's even better!" Nick laughs as they start towards the exit of the garage. "At least it'll get your mind off of things, right?"

* * *

 **{II}**

* * *

It's a four-hour drive, one she isn't excited for. Beverly's never been the biggest fan of long rides, however she once figured it was due to her mother's bad driving. Now that she's got the full distance in view on her GPS, she realizes that it has nothing to do with poor driving.

 _Almost 300 miles._ She's driven out of town, once maybe twice, but out of _state_? Swallowing hard, Beverly sets the GPS back on the dashboard and takes in a shaky breath.

"I'll be fine, it'll be fine." She breathes. "Just think of your brother. _Just Riley_."

"Riley, wh- _what_?"

Beverly jolts and looks back as Riley walks up to her. He's still in his pajamas, the ones she's noticing aren't fitting right on him anymore. However, instead of him growing out of them, the clothes seem to be growing over Riley. They're baggier than they were a few months back, at least just enough for him to adjust them every now and then while he walks.

 _Must be the medications,_ she thinks to herself. She wonders if their mother ever picked up on that too.

"Nothing, Riley." Beverly gets out of her car and looks him over. "You got everything? Medicine, change of clothes, chargers—"

"Yeah, yeah." Riley mumbles tiredly and lifts up a lightweight bookbag in the hand that isn't holding up his pants. "I g-got everything. But, _why_ am I going over to Bonnie and Mike's house today?"

"Because," Beverly leads him around to the front passenger's seat. "I have to go to North Carolina today to meet up with someone. Don't worry about it, okay?"

"Lemme guess, you're gonna meet that Luke guy?" He squints at her through the early morning haze.

"Yeah," Beverly opens the door for him, watching as he slides into the seat and sets his book bag on his lap. "I am, just to discuss some things. Like I said, Riley, don't worry about it."

"Mhm. Whatever." He sets his head back and closes his eyes tiredly. "If you say so."

Closing the door, Beverly feels the guilt from the day before creep back into her. At this point, she's 100% sure that he knows _something._ She isn't sure what he knows exactly, but it's obvious he at least knows that she's lying to him.

As she climbs into the driver's seat and starts the car, part of her begins to fear that maybe their mom already told him something. Even if Beverly's been out of the house for months now, when would Luke ever come up in a conversation between those two? Their father was the last thing she would ever (willingly) talk about, and even then—

"How long are you g-going to be out?"

Beverly puts her seatbelt on and presses her lips together. After carefully pulling out of the driveway, Beverly starts down the street and out of the neighborhood.

"A while," she answers. "Until 6, maybe later if traffic is bad."

Out of the corner of her eye, she notices the frown forming on Riley's lips. "So I have to stay an entire day with the Yvettes?"

"That's right."

Riley groans. "Why can't I just stay home and watch myself?"

" _You_? _Alone_? _All day_?" Beverly glances over at her younger with a wide eyed look. "No. Nuh-uh. No way."

"I'm not a _baby_ , Beverly—!"

"And I'm not saying that you're a baby!" Beverly exclaims. "It's not that I don't trust you, Riley, you _know_ that," she sighs and looks back to the road. "It's just that I don't trust your… head, y'know? Not with your condition."

"Yeah, yeah…" Riley folds his arms over his chest. "My brain's always the villain."

"But _you_ aren't." Beverly departs one of her hands from the steering wheel to ruffle his hair. "It's not your fault you have epilepsy, but I can't take the chance of you having an episode and no one being there."

"Okay, fine, I get it," Riley pushes her hand away and leans back into his seat.

A wall between them is put up, so tense she can feel it. Beverly wants to break past it, she always wants to when it comes to her younger brother, but now isn't the time to push buttons.

Pulling the car into the Yvette's driveway, Beverly feels relief wash over her when she sees Bonnie already standing on the porch of the house. The opposite could be said for her brother. All he can manage is a miserable groan when they see her walk down the steps and towards the car.

"Riley," Beverly urges, though her voice is curling further into a plea. " _Please_ , be on your best behavior."

"I will, gawd!" He slings his book bag over his shoulder and swings the car door open before Bonnie gets to the driver's window.

"And—hey!" She catches her brother by the wrist, and he looks back at her with brown, impatient eyes. "I love you, Riles."

His face softens.

"Love you too, Bev." He pulls away slowly. "B-Be safe, okay?"

She smiles warmly, "I will."

Granting her the slightest grin, Riley shuts the door and bounds his way to the front door before Bonnie can notice that he's made it out. It's seemingly well timed, too. A quick knock of knuckles against her window draws her attention back to the older woman standing just outside of the car, and Beverly makes haste with lowering it.

"Hey there, darlin'," Bonnie fondly looks down at her. "Are you doin' okay? You kind of… dropped off there for a few days. Got Mike and I all worried sick."

Guilt settles in her chest and she looks away.

"I'm sorry, I'm just… not good with phone calls."

"That's alright. So," She starts. "Mind explainin' why you're heading off to North Carolina for the day?"

"It's nothing, really, I…" Her voice trails off. Beverly lays her head back. "I need to meet up with my dad over an arrangement for Riley."

"Your dad? You've never really mentioned your daddy before," she notes before hardening her gaze. "Wait. This isn't that one guy—"

"No! No." Beverly darts her eyes down to her hands as a sense of unease fills her just at the implication. She doesn't want—no—doesn't _need_ to remember that. "No, it's not him. Definitely not him."

"O-Oh."

"It's my _real_ dad. I mean," her voice falters and she looks over to the front door. " _Our_ real dad."

"That makes more sense," Bonnie sighs. When Beverly looks up, she can see the smile returning to Bonnie's face. "When's the last you saw him?"

Beverly makes a face.

"A long while ago," she answers, and Bonnie doesn't ask further on it.

"You sure you can make the ride down by yourself, sweetheart?" Bonnie folds her robe closer to herself. "North Carolina's quite the drive for a kid."

"I'm sure, Bonnie," she assures. "Please, don't worry about it."

"Course I'm gonna worry about you!" A hand reaches in and teasingly shoves at her shoulder. "Both of us will. Even before you moved in with us all those months ago, we've always sort of seen you as our daughter."

Warmth fills her cheeks and a grin tugs at her lips. Sometimes she wishes the Yvettes had been the family she was raised in. Mike and Bonnie, they're a sweet couple. Genuinely loving and rarely quarreling. They'd definitely make wonderful parents if Bonnie could have kids. Part of her wishes they could be the ones to take custody over Riley, but that isn't a viable option.

"Anyways," Bonnie pulls her from thought. "Riley has everythin' right? And, god, are you sure—"

"Yes, Bonnie," she sighs, smiling with exasperation. "He has everything and I'll be fine."

"Alright, alright," Bonnie chuckles. "Call me if you need anythin', okay? Be safe, sweetheart. We love you."

Beverly adjusts the gears, watching as the redhead takes a step back from the car. "I love you too, M-" she catches herself. "B-Bonnie."

The two wave goodbye as the car pulls out, and Beverly begins the 300-mile drive south.

* * *

 **{II}**

* * *

Time takes its toll on everything, yet it seems inclined to pick favorites. This part of town, run down and still stuck somewhere in the 90s, hasn't aged a day—though the neglected roads have seen better. He tells Nick to drive slow. It's a brief yet nostalgia filled drive, Luke pointing to various buildings and recalling as many memories as he can from it.

"Remember when that house party down Chantham got raided? We ran all the way down the street and ended up tryna climb up the ivy wall just to save our skins."

They both laugh. Needless to say, it didn't work. A police officer eventually caught them—underaged and intoxicated—and they had to be bailed out by Pete. They never heard the end of it until Luke graduated from high school two years after.

Nick glances and points just briefly. "Remember when we went rooftop jumpin' and I ended up fallin' into an alley?"

"Christ, man," Luke laughs like it's the funniest joke he's heard in years, "You shattered your wrist so bad you needed surgery to fix it."

"Hell, I still can't move it right," he chuckles and shakes his head. "God, we were such fuckin' idiots."

Past tense. Luke looks over; still grinning, still gripping onto the handle on the roof. That's another thing about time, something Luke can't stand. Part of him almost can't recognize Nick. He's so much more older, somehow more wiser. So much different, yet he's still _Nick_.

Nick says something else, but Luke doesn't catch it. He glances over quickly.

"What?"

As they pull into the Diner's parking lot, Nick starts chuckling.

"Forget I said anythin'," he replies. "We're here."

Frowning, Luke turns his attention past Nick and towards their destination. He hasn't seen the diner in years, but it's in the same exact shape as it was the last he stopped by. The outside paint, vintage and dull, peels in an unsightly way. Cracks fill the parking lot more than they do the main road, which Luke once thought was impossible. Very few cars are parked around here, which is what he was expecting. He then looks back to the entrance, pins and needles forming along his neck.

"I _look_ fine, right?" He asks nervously. "And I _smell_ fine, right?"

"You look and—" Nick pauses to take a joking whiff of the air, tossing him a playful grin. " _Smell_ terrible."

Luke smirks and shoves his shoulder. "C'mon, man, be serious!"

"Alright! Alright," Nick chuckles and parks the car for just a moment. "You look fine, Luke. And, Christ, you damn sure drenched yourself in enough cologne to give a doctor an asthma attack."

Luke rolls his eyes and adjusts his hand over his satchel. He's bringing it more so for comfort than utility. Asides from a notebook, nothing of use lies in there. Worry fills him. Maybe he should've bought something else, something more. Photo albums, maybe? Documents? Maybe he should've—

"Luke."

He feels a warm, firm hand squeeze his shoulder, bringing him back. Luke looks up and meets Nick's reassuring crystalline gaze.

"You'll be fine," Nick says, putting emphasis on every single word. He's sounding more and more like a father every day. More and more like _Pete_. "Just… Don't freak out, okay? She's your daughter. Just… relax and talk."

"That's easier said than done," Luke remarks. "I mean… God, what if she's just like her mom?"

 _Acidic, vengeful, crude—_

"Hey, no, stop that," Nick presses, "You can't go in there and immediately compare her to her mom. Okay?"

Luke looks to his fingers, watching them tremble with each shaky breath.

"If you do that, it'll just alienate her and make her feel like she's doin' somethin' wrong just for bein' alive," Nick's voice fills with a deeply personal ache. "No one likes feelin' that way, man."

"Alright. I'm sorry, I'm just… scared," Luke undoes his seatbelt. "Thanks for drivin' me here, Nick. And— Hell— givin' me the pep talk."

Nick's demeanor shifts and he soon chuckles. "Anytime, Luke. Call me when you need me to pick you back up, okay?" Before Luke can open the door, Nick tugs his arm briefly and adds, "Also, hey! Don't forget to tell Beverly that her uncle Nick misses her, okay?"

Luke grins back at him and nods, leaving the car and shutting the door behind him. Once he reaches the sidewalk, the car starts forward and drives off and out of view. Looking back at the front doors, Luke finds himself wishing Nick had stayed. Maybe this would be easier.

It takes him a moment, but Luke soon finds it in himself to open the entrance door. As he walks in, the thick scent of pancakes and the sound of Elvis Presley greets him into a diner stuck in time.

" _Wise men say,_

 _only fools rush in,_

 _But I can't help,_

 _falling in love with you."_

He fingers the chords against his satchel strap, scanning the diner for any teenagers. He has baby photos of Beverly hidden in the guest room, though none of them would prove useful in his search now. So, instead of straining, Luke tries to think of how Jane looked when they first met. Spunky, dressed for rebellion, cutting through every living being with wild, razor-sharp eyes. His bottom lip catches between his teeth as he finds no such descriptor, just a couple of old-timers spread sparsely throughout the diner and a young woman seated in a booth to herself. Maybe she isn't here yet.

As he slides his way towards the counter service, Luke can't help but feel some guilt for already breaking Nick's 'No Comparison' rule. It's not that he isn't trying, more or less it's the fact that he has so little to go off from. If he had more, if he knew more, maybe this would be easier—

"Hey, you're Lukas, right?"

He snaps back to reality and is met with the kind face of one of the Waitresses. She's short, lanky, and pale; black hair tied back into a bun while her bangs almost awkwardly cover her bluebird eyes. His gaze flickers down, noting that her name tag reads Stephanie. If he wasn't any wiser, Luke would've easily taken Stephanie for Nick's sister.

"It's... Luke," he corrects. No one calls him Lukas. "Have we met before?"

"Oh! No, no. I just saw you getting dropped off by Nick, and I sort of recognized you from the photos at his house," she chuckles and passes him an empty mug. As she talks, she fills it with coffee. When he reaches to grab his wallet, she waves the offer away. "Don't worry, it's on the house."

"Thanks." He smiles as she passes over sugar and creamer. "So, you're a friend of Nick's?"  
"I wouldn't say friend. He's _married_ to a friend of mine, but we're cool."  
"Oh," he muses as recognition lights his voice. " _Oh_ , wait, shoot, _you're_ Steph?"

"The one and only," she chuckles. "I'm guessing that means he's mentioned me."  
"Once or twice," he stirs in the sugar and cream until the coffee's a light beige. If the coffee isn't sweet enough to rot his teeth, there's usually no point in him drinking it. "Usually while he's bringin' up Shel. And—God—he loves talkin' about her."  
Stephanie's expression softens, mouthing a silent, "Aww."

A customer down the counter raises their hand up briefly and Stephanie immediately jumps to it. Whipping around, she grabs the pot of coffee and pours the brew into the customer's cup. She seems to be on top of things. Offering them a curt but warm smile, she sets the pot back down before returning her attention back to Luke.

"Those two are too sweet. Hope they last," Stephanie sighs, looking away. "Sad to say, not many do."

Something heavy settles in Luke's chest, and he finds it harder to swallow the next sip of coffee.

"Anyways," she says, pushing the heaviness aside. "What brings you to the Al Coda diner?"

His heart stutters.

"O-Oh, Ah…" He looks away meekly, rubbing his neck. "I'm waiting for someone."

" _Someone_ , huh?" Steph chuckles at his bashfulness. " _So_ , is it a special someone? A girl?"

"K-Kind of." Luke says, keeping his eyes on his cup of coffee. "Someone I haven't seen in… _years_. A reunion, I guess?"

"Ohh." Steph muses, pausing for just a moment. "That's sweet. Mmm… When's this special girl going to show up?"

Luke shrugs and takes a slip. "I'm not sure," He says, placing the cup back down on the counter. "I'm… honestly a little scared that she won't come all together."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah..." Luke fumbles his thumbs together and finally pulls his gaze up to meet hers. She's looking down at him as if she's reading a joke. "What? Is there somethin' on my face?"

"No, no," Steph chuckles. "It's just that…"

As her voice falters, she makes a point to look past his shoulder. Luke follows her gaze and suddenly makes eye contact with the plain looking woman by the window. Looking as if she's been caught red-handed, the woman quickly darts her eyes away and returns to sipping at her own coffee. Luke frowns and looks back to Steph.

"What?"

"She's been staring at you this entire time," Stephanie muses in a sing-song voice. "Are you sure she isn't the one?"

"What? No! No," he shakes his head. "I'm waiting' on a… _kid_. She isn't…"

"Mhmm," she looks back over his shoulder. "Well, she's walking over here right now. So, maybe one of us is wrong."

His heart rate spikes and suddenly he feels dizzy. _What_? He whips around almost too quickly, and, suddenly, he and the plain woman are both face to face. Actually, now that they're this close, Luke realizes that she isn't just a plain woman. She's just a plain _kid_.

Her long, mousy brown hair is braided back halfway, the rest falling to her shoulder like billowing sea foam. Her cheeks are still baby soft, still just as chubby as the day he left. Her fingers, trembling awfully, grip down at the edges of her pink shirt.

He looks back up at her, wanting to speak, but something stops him. Her eyes. That glimmer of fear residing there, he's seen it before. Somewhere a long time ago.

And then it hits him. Time stops altogether, Elvis falls silent, and he swears that Stephanie isn't even breathing. All he can see and hear is _her_.

Luke doesn't know how he mistook her for a grown woman. Maybe it's the weather worn lines just under her eyes, maybe it's something else. He isn't quite sure yet.

"Beverly?"

Hopping out of his seat, Luke stands up and stares down at her with wide eyes.

The girl nods, taking a small step back before staring up at him with a wary expression. "You're Luke?"

He swallows dryly, nodding as well. "Yeah."

A few awkward, silent moments pass, the two of them just standing there and staring at each other. As he grants her one last look over, part of him itches to hug her. Would that be strange? Hugging her after all these years?

"You," she starts, voice airy and fragile. "You look the same."

He can't help but laugh at that.

"Do I?" He asks with a tender smile, and she weakly returns it.

She offers him a curt nod, sheepishly looking away. Her gaze darkens a little before her smile fades.

"I'm super sorry to pull you out of whatever you planned for today," she says as she takes interest in her fingers. "You must be busy."

 _Busy_? He wants to laugh at that too, but common sense urges him not to.

"Uhm… I'll make this talk quick." Beverly quickly turns and walks her way back to the booth. Luke glances back at Stephanie—who's now chatting up a new customer—before taking his coffee mug and walking over to the booth she's been seated at. He sits across from her, setting his mug down as he gets comfortable. In the corner of his eye, he notices the empty plate pushed to the side, her almost completely emptied coffee mug and the nervous fidgeting of her fingers.

"How long have you been here?" He asks, looking around the dinner for any familiar faces. She's been alone in the booth since he got in here. Which, granted, wasn't that long. But, still, who drove her down?

"A little while," she replies vaguely, reaching up to nervously mess with a loose strand of hair. "But, don't worry about it! You didn't keep me waiting… long."

He looks back, noting the sullen lilt to her voice.

"Hey… 'You okay?"

"I… I…" Beverly clenches her jaw and shuts her eyes tight. Before he knows it, she's starting to quietly cry. "I'm sorry, I-I can't…"

His heart twists so tight that it threatens to kill him, "Bev?"

"Why?" She cries harder, covering her face. "You left us without even saying _goodbye_. _Why?_ "

Luke flinches. He stares down at her, at first in disbelief and then with remorse. Of course, there was no closure to that situation, but it hadn't occurred to him until now that he isn't the only one hurting after the divorce. At least, the thought hadn't hit him as hard as it is now. She was so young, he never thought that she'd…

Luke's throat grows tight. Without hesitating, he scoots over, gently encouraging for her to sit by him. Without hesitation, Beverly slides out of her seat and into his. The next bit comes almost instinctually. Like magnets, their arms find their way around each other, holding the other as close as they possibly can. Beverly's face finds its way to his chest, her body shaking with quiet sobs as Luke tries to comfort her. She's so small in his arms, so fragile and warm.

They stay like that for what seems like an eternity—5 minutes at the most—before Beverly pulls away. She keeps her head on his shoulder, wiping away the tear streaks running down her cheeks.

"Beverly…" Luke sighs and rests his head gently on top of hers. "I'm so sorry. I never wanted to leave you or your brother. You guys meant so much me—God—you both still do."

She whimpers at that. "Then why didn't you call? Or—Or visit? Or… Or…" She screws her face up again, almost threatening to cry again. "Or did _something_?"

"Look, I wanted to, believe me," he replies. "I wanted to visit, I wanted to be with you both. But…"

"But?"

"I just _couldn't_." Luke finds himself looking away. "Your mother, She…. she never explained anythin'?"

"No," She sits up and looks up at him warily. "She's never talked about you or the divorce. What… what happened?"

Luke groans and sits up.

"It was…" His voice trails off, and it takes him a moment to find it again. "A goddamn mess, to put it simply. I haven't had custody over you two since then, and your mother made it clear that she never wanted me around either of you."

" _Why?_ "

"I don't know," he admits. "I've been asking myself the same thing for the longest while. But, kiddo…" He looks back at her. "Please, understand that I do love you. I've always loved you two, even if we haven't seen each other in God knows how long. And, look…"

He gently hooks a finger just under her chin, bringing her gaze up to meet his.

"Not a day went by where I wasn't thinkin' about you guys."

Beverly's lips quiver, a mixture of emotions shining in her eyes.

"That's… that's a relief," she lets out a soft laugh, dabbing her wrists at her eyes. "I thought… I thought you'd forgotten about us."

" _Forgotten_?" His eyes softens. "Beverly, how could I forget you guys?" He wraps an arm around her shoulder and squeezes affectionately. "My little partners in crime."

She grins at that, leaning her head back into his shoulder.

"Speaking of which," he adds. "How's Riley?"

"He's…" She looks to the side. "Doing better."

"Better?"

"He wasn't doing too well the other day," she murmurs vaguely, "...but he's okay now."

"Like a cold?"

"Uh… y-yeah!" She replies, and he knows that it's a lie. "Something like that."

Luke remains quiet for a moment. The fact that she had to lie about Riley's health makes him anxious. But, he knows better than to press further.

"Well," he sighs. "I'm glad he's okay. I miss him. He used to drool on me every time I picked him up, it was crazy."

Beverly laughs and pulls out her phone. "That sounds like him. Uhm," she pauses to pull up something. "Do… do you wanna see pictures of him?"

Luke grins. "Do you even have to ask?"

She skims through blurred lines of photos, searching for a moment or two before picking out a specific one.

"I took this the summer before, while we were hiking. Riley loved it," She sets the phone down on the table for him to get a better view. "That's him."

Luke looks down. It's a photo taken on the cliff side of a mountain ridge, the sun bearing down on the two people in the picture; a young boy and a woman. His pale skin is scattered with an array of freckles, his lips curling into an ecstatic grin while revealing the gap between his front teeth. Sparse blonde curls fall here and there along his forehead, the rest pushed back by a purple headband. His eyes, his jawline, his smile; all Luke can see is _Jane_. But, that nose? Yeah, that was all Carver, no Byrde.

He chuckles to himself despite his throat growing tense.

"God," he coughs. "He sure is a momma's boy."

"You don't know the half of it." She smiles, though it quickly falters. Soon, she's looking away, sadness blanketing her expression.

"U-Uh, speakin' of your mom," he begins. "How is she? We talked the other day, but…"

"The other day?" She perks up suddenly. "Which day? What did she say?"

" _Tuesday_ ," he answers slowly. "We were talkin' about a custody arrangement. So, whenever you and Riley need to come down to stay with me, you two can…"

Luke notices the shift in Beverly's expression as a realization of some sort hits her. First surprise, then betrayal, then anger.

"Beverly, what—"

" _I should've known_ ," she exhales suddenly. "She planned this. She… she really…"

"Wait, planned what?"

Beverly looks up at him with wide, sad eyes.

"Did you know?" She questions desperately. "Did she tell you? Do you know where she is?"

His breath hitches.

"Know _what_? Beverly, calm down." He rests a hand on her shoulder.

" _No!_ " She cries. "Dad, she… Mom…" Beverly looks down at her hands. "Mom left."

The second the words leave her mouth, the world falls silent once again. There's a loud ringing filling the diner. Suddenly, things start to add up.

" _What happened 12 years ago left both of us unhappy for two polar opposite reasons."_

His breath catches in his throat.

" _And I soon realized what would fix that."_

Oh.

" _Us getting what we've always fucking wanted."_

Oh _God_.

"Jane just… up and left?"

Beverly nods. "And she… she took everything, all of her stuff. Sure, she'd leave sometimes, but…" Her thumbs twiddle back together. "She's _never_ done this before. I…" She shakes her head. "I don't think she's coming back."

Luke's heart drops into his stomach. Anger fills him to the brim, but he swallows down what harsh vulgarities he has for now.

"Goddamnit, Jane," he curses under his breath. "Beverly, I am so sorry. That's… that's beyond messed up. That's… _God_."

"It's fine. This is actually part of the reason why I came down here."

"All by yourself?" He recalls noting that no one had been with her in the booth before.

She nods. "Look, I… I'm not making enough to support myself let alone Riley. I'd have to pick up a second job, but I can't… leave him in the house alone." She takes in a deep breath. "I know this is sudden, and I don't know your circumstances, but… I need help. I just need someone to take Riley in."

Luke feels his blood boil. This isn't fair, just like all of the unfair bullshit Jane has put them through. Beverly doesn't deserve this, neither of the kids did.

"Look," he starts. "I will gladly take Riley in and take care of all his needs, regardless of what's going on. Don't worry about that. But, my question is… Are _you_ going to be alright?"

Beverly rubs her arms. "I'll be fine as long as Riley is safe."

"No, Beverly." He frowns. "Even if Riley is okay, how are _you_ going to manage?" Luke sits back. "You mentioned that your job right now just isn't enough to support you."

She opens her mouth and then closes it. Beverly looks away.

"Look," Luke breaths. "I don't wanna… pressure you or anythin' like that. I don't know how the situation is up there, but… I want you to be safe. And I also don't want to separate you two."

"What are you asking?"

He sucks in a deep breath. "I'm asking if you would like to move in with me too. I have more than enough room, and it wouldn't be of any trouble at all. That, and..." Luke rests his hand on hers. "I… I want to make up for lost time. Get to know the both of you better and… maybe get a second chance at being your father?"

Her eyes go wide with shock, silence filling the air for a long-held moment.

"I… I'd love that," she answers breathlessly. "You really mean that?"

"Of course!"

Without warning, Beverly goes back to hugging him again. She squeezes him tight, pulling a warm laugh out of him.

"So," he chuckles. "Is that a yes?"

She nods, laughing along happily with him. "It's yes times a million!"

* * *

 **{II}**

* * *

With the sun just barely settling beneath the horizon, Beverly makes it to Lexington just in time to pick up Riley and start on dinner. She's giddy, fingers trembling with excitement as she pulls into the Yvette's driveway. She figures nothing can pull her down from this exhilaration, though the idea of the conversation she's planning to have with Riley tonight—which is now running far beyond overdue—lingers over her head like a storm cloud. She's not excited for it, nor is she excited about how he's going to react to it. But, at the end of the day, this is all for the best.

Stepping out of the car, Beverly closes the door behind her and makes her way towards the stairs with a wide smile. She treads up the steps, walking over to the door. Reaching for the doorbell, something stops her. A pair of shouts from just inside, and then one from behind the door. She flinches. Is that Riley?

Without warning, the doorknob turns, and the door violently swings open. With it brings a figurative wind, one that takes her happy mood and blows it somewhere far away. It's almost as if the Yvettes had been harboring a hurricane. As he storms past her, shoving her in the process, Beverly realizes that they had been harboring a force of nature.

"Riley, are you—"

"Don't talk to me."

The younger marches his way down the steps and to the car. He slides his way into the back seat, slamming the door shut. _Tropical Depression Riley_.

She looks over, bewilderment in her eyes. She feels irritation rise inside of her, bubbling hot, but she swallows it all down in one go.

 _It's probably the meds_ , Beverly shakes away the bad thoughts and all of the unease filling her. Sometimes his medication did that to him.

"Beverly."

Turning back on her heel, the sight of Bonnie's wild blue eyes greets her. However, the look they hold is anything but welcoming. Beverly smiles nervously, but it isn't returned.

"H-Hi, Mrs. Yvette," she squeaks. "Is everything alright—"

"Bev, I…" Bonnie looks past her shoulder, towards the car. Her eyes shine with an emotion Beverly can't pin. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I thought he knew. I didn't think that—"

Beverly does a double take. "Wh-What?"

"A-About your dad."

 _Oh._

 _Oh no._

"He asked why you were takin' so long and I… It just slipped. I figured he knew, but—" Her eyebrows furrow with worry. "Beverly, darlin', I swear I didn't mean anythin' by this."

"I-I…" Beverly sucks in a sharp breath to keep her world from spinning off its axis. She glances back to the car. "It's fine. This isn't your fault. I'll figure something out."

"Are you sure?" Bonnie steps forward, and rests a hand on her shoulder. "Look, he was… acting irrational. Rippin' stuff up—"

" _Your_ stuff?"

"No!" She exclaims. "Of course not, just some yellow notebook paper and some stuff in his book bag. Either way, he seems… beyond livid right now."

"I can handle him, Bonnie," Beverly reassures. "I know I can. Anyways, I need to tell you something."

It takes her a few minutes, but she sums up the conversation the best she can. Luke's kind, even sweeter than she remembers him being. They came to an agreement that it's best for everyone if they go down and live with him in North Carolina. It'll be easier that way. Nervously, Beverly adds that she'll have to gather her own belongings from the Yvette's house over the next week or so for the move.

"A-A week?" Bonnie echoes, mortified. "That soon?"

"For me, yeah," Beverly breaths, looking to the floor. "Riley's leaving in two days so I can sort my own matters out. I'll handle big scale packing."

"Alone?!" The older woman cries. "Beverly, how about Mike and I drop by after Riley leaves so we can help."

"Bonnie, you don't—"

" _Please_ , Bev," she pleads. "You're like our daughter. 'sides, I know it'd kill Mike if he found out you had to do all of that work by yourself."

It takes her a moment, but Beverly finally accepts the offer.

Bonnie smiles. "Thank you, sweetheart." She looks past Beverly one last time. "If anything happens tonight, you have our numbers."

"Of course," she assures and takes a step back towards the stairs. "I have to take Riley home now, Mrs. Yvette. Tell Mike I said hello."

"Alright, sweetie." Bonnie waves her off with a saddened smile. "Be safe."

Beverly turns on her heel and starts down the stairs, making her way to the car. Getting inside, she starts the engine and tries to keep her breath steady. _This isn't Bonnie's fault or Riley's_ —-she tries to remind herself—- _and_ _this isn't your fault either_. But, if no one is to blame, who is? Someone always takes the fall, someone has to. As Beverly pulls out of the driveway and makes the drive back home in silence, she finds it easiest to blame their mother for sticking them in such a complicated situation. After all, none of them asked for things to work out this way. Apparently, their father didn't either.

After a few minutes spent driving and brewing in her own thoughts, the car pulls it's way into her mom's driveway. Her car still isn't there, she doesn't expect it to be. Before she can stop the car, the door to the backseat opens. She hits the breaks in a panic, and the door slamming shut.

"Riley!" She yelps, looking back to see an empty seat. Her head whips towards the house. He's already on the porch, reaching under the welcome mat for the spare key. Cripes, he's so quick.

Stopping the car and taking out the key, Beverly gets out of the car and jogs over to meet him. Riley looks back at her, eyes seething as he opens the door and almost slams it in her face. Luckily, she pushes it forward, entering the house with a frustrated look.

"Riley, cripes, stop!" She cries, slamming the door behind her.

He stops. Riley turns on his heel, glaring at her with a clenched jaw.

" _A family friend_."

Beverly feels her heart stop.

"Riley, I—"

"I knew you w-were lying to me," he grits out. "I knew, but I thought that maybe he was an uncle. Or s-something. N-Not this, not… I-I just didn't think that, that… I-I-I—"

Riley's breathing turns quick. He starts pacing, running his hands through his hair until he clamps down on the roots.

"Please, calm down—"

"D-Don't tell me to calm down!" He snaps, pulling a hand from his head to jab a finger her way. "You _lied_ to me! You t-told me that this guy was just some 'family friend'! You—!"

"I-I didn't know how to explain things right then, Riley," she replies, holding her hands up in defense. "I'm sorry, I… I know it was awful of me to lie to you, but I didn't want to throw that at you so suddenly. I—"

"Gawd, stop! Just—" His voice breaks, head turning away as tears prickle the corners of his eyes. After a moment in silence, Riley finally continues. "I've been under the impression that he's been dead for almost 13 _years._ And now, almost a week into Mom not being here, I find out that he's alive, but… just another _runner_."

"No..." She shakes her head. "No, It's… It's _complicated_ , Riley."

"Wh-What's complicated?!"

"Everything!" She cries. "Dad, he… he didn't want to leave us. He stills loves us, the divorce just went sour, and Mom never let us see him—"

"Oh, so now the blame is suddenly all on Mom?" He narrows his eyes. "What if he's messed up in the head? Huh? What if she had a r-reason for k-keeping us away from him?"

"It isn't like that!"

"Then why—"

"I don't know why!" She snaps with frustration. "I don't know what happened between Mom and Dad, Riley, I don't have all the answers! All I know is that Dad is _kind_ beyond all reason, and he's… willing to take us in."

Riley freezes. "Wh-What?"

Beverly takes a deep breath and then says, "We can't stay here, Riley. We're moving down to North Carolina to live with him."

"'M- _Moving'_? No. No!" He shakes his head. "We can't leave! Beverly, what'll happen when Mom comes back and we're not here?!"

A pang of sadness hits Beverly right in the heart. "Mom isn't coming back."

"You don't know that!"

"All of her things are _gone_ , Riley!" She retorts. "She _abandoned_ us!"

"Shut up!" He yells back, covering his ears. "She'll come back! I know she will!"

"Why are you so sure?!"

Riley, red-faced with tears streaming down his cheeks, screams, " _Because she always comes back_!"

Afterwards, the house falls silent. Beverly stares at him with wide, heartbroken eyes. He's right, in a sense, but that didn't change their situation. Stepping forward, she tries to go over and comfort him. He backs away and grits his teeth, smothering his cries down until they were choked hiccups. Riley glares back up at her.

"I'm. N-Not. Going."

She sucks in a deep, quiet breath. Looking back at him, she firmly says, "You don't have a choice."

"Y-You can't make me," Riley challenges weekly.

"It's either this or Nana's."

Riley tenses at that. He turns his heated gaze down towards his shoes.

"This isn't fair," he shakes out. "I have _friends_ here. I have a _life_ here! And, _Mom_ … she could come back at any time! Beverly," his voice breaks and he looks up at her with pleading eyes. "I don't wanna do this."

Her gaze softens.

"I know you don't," she sighs. "But we can't stay here anymore. Please, just… Pack your clothes, get what you need into a suitcase. Dad's coming to pick you up in two days."

Riley opens his mouth to protest, but Beverly speaks before he can.

" _Please_ , _Riley_."

After a moment of silence, her younger brother's face hardens. Shaking his head, Riley scoops his book bag up and marches towards the stairs.

"Whatever," he mumbles in defeat, pushing past her and then running up the steps.

Beverly rubs her temples as she walks towards the kitchen, flinching when the door to Riley's room slams hard enough to make the house shake. She glares up at the ceiling for just a moment before the look melts into something saddened. _He'll be okay_ , she thinks to herself, _he has to be._

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you for reading! Feedback is always appreciated. Stay tuned for the next chapter!


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